“What?”
“That’s why I want you to release me.”
Cleeburg gave the same hard contemptuous laugh as before.
“What’re you trying to put over?”
“Nothing.”
“You mean to tell me you’re chucking a profession when you’re right on top?”
“I’m going back to the law—if the world hasn’t too keen a sense of humor to accept a one-time actor as a lawyer.”
[207]
] The manager gave him one long uncomprehending look, then flung back his head and roared. It was laughter not pleasant to listen to. Brooks stood it silently for a stretch while his hands twitched. Then his eyes flared as if fire were behind them. Still he did not turn from the window.
“Let’s end this, will you? We’re not getting anywhere. And I’ve given you my ultimatum.”
“Well, I’ll give you mine.” Cleeburg had lost all count of words. The bruise of bucking against a stone wall had made him see red. “You stick to Gloria or I’ll make it so hot for you that they’ll hoot you out of this town! That’s the only way to handle—swine!” He broke off, turned on his heel, went back to the desk. Suddenly he leaned across it. “What the hell do you want, anyhow?”